Tag Archives: passport

Sorry, no pictures on this bloggity update unfortunately…nothing to give a relief for your eyeballs at all.

A lot has been happening, been seeing a lot of new things, and so life goes on, I guess.

Stuff went bad again….I dont know where I left off, but I went back to the house for a week, Damon remained sober and full of energy and piss and vinegar for one full week….then the very morning his mother left for her job he was back to drunk and I said fuck it for the last time.

The embassy has come through, just yesterday they told me the loan fiiinnnaaalllyyy got approved, but in the last few weeks, I’ve met two people who know quite a few people around town, and they’ve been spreading the word of maybe me getting a job…..needless to say, the embassy option will have to wait at this point, because I would rather be poor, full of good food, and happy, paying taxes to the Philippine government than poor and depressed and suicidal, inhaling black mold spores and eating out of garbage cans in Canada, repaying a criminal government that I hate.

I’ve gone down to Zamboangita, excuse me if the spelling is wrong, met a German man who owns the White Chocolate Hills beach resort, as well as two other resort owners that have been very kind, and seemed decently interested in possibly having a native speaker of English to help out around their properties.They said they would be in touch.Then, I went and met with a Korean man who runs an English school that I may be able to assist at, and on Monday I will be meeting with someone from one of the call centers around town to see if they’d be interested in hiring me.

The Lady I met and who’s taken me to meet people knows the woman who basically brought all the call centers into Dumaguete, so undoubtedly, she will know of someone to be interested if there is a prospect.

So I’ve been rushing my little bottom off to and fro, socializing and meeting with people, as well as keeping the word out that I want a job and I want to stay for good.

I keep thinking about how much Damon would hate me and embarass me and look down upon me now…… every time I meet someone I can hear him in my head saying ‘Oh, this person is stupid, moronic, loser, they don’t know anything, god how boring, blah blah….I’ve been trying to not let it get me down….logically, I know his view of other people ((as well as this whole country)) is depressing and off-base from reality…which is so ironic, when he tells me he loves the Philippines, but then says all Philippine food is disgusting, over salted and full of MSG…….When I know from direct experience, eating with the cops, eating with Ma’am Hoffmann, etc that rice and vegetables, or pechay and malunngay soup and jackfruit and ya know…..all the other foods I’ve tasted aren’t bloody disgusting or salty in the darn least…..I can’t say much about the salted fish…of course they’re salty…but SO DELICIOIUUUUSUSUS…I was scared to try them for the longest time, but the other day, I gave in and OHMYGOD…..so crunchy….so saaallltttyyyyy….so goooooooood….And I’m addicted to the BBQ pork chunks down the street from the copstation…..I cannot get enough of them.

Anyway just a small update, can’t stay online for too long as it isn’t my computer, as usual……I will try to write again soon.Damon also tried to make me feel bad for writing this blog…told me it’s practically a form of mental masturbation and that I am not allowed to air my personal life on the internet…….but honestly, excuse my language, Fuck That, I don’t censor myself, I can write about what I want, and if he didn’t want people to know the bad stuff, he shouldn’t have been, frankly, an asshole.

I will continue to write, because this blog actually has a purpose, once I have a solid place to write updates, and once I get more and more immersed in the Philippine culture and lifestyle, I want a space to be able to share my experiences, hopes, dreams, and reality of life as a foreigner in the Philippines.

Lots of things have happened, and fear not, I have not abandoned this bloggity at all, the technology in the house all went kaput at pretty much the same time….
Donna went to Makati for surgery a few days before my birthday…..which was January 17th….then the tv died, and the internet started glitching up….

Damon drank again for four straight days and that was terrible, I got called all sorts of nasty things again, and at one point it was so bad I took my bag, packed it, and got a jeepney to Coco Amigos on the waterfront downtown.
I sat there for hours, had a calamansi juice, and smoked cigarettes…..I foolishly assumed he’d come try to find me after so many hours, but I was wrong. I was going to sleep outside and start doing what I needed to do to survive, but I got really tired and it was raining so I got the last Jeepney back to Valencia and walked back to the house.

What a terrible cycle it is….He drinks and treats me horribly…..I tell him I want to go home, and that he promised to send me back if things didn’t work out…then he stays sober for a few days so I feel like everything’s back on track, then he gets drunk again.

I’m tired of it, but I’m literally stuck here…I have no way to get myself home, I have about $100 in the bank, and I don’t know anyone who can help me out. I don’t want to ask Donna because she’s dealing with the chemo and stuff right now….but I’m going to have to.

My visa extension has also been expired since January 18th…..so technically I’m staying in the country illegally right now….but again, no money to do anything about it.
Maybe I could be deported. lol

Anyways, while Damon was on his little binge, I’d go up to the top of the path with a book and a beer and just sit and read all day….one day I was just crying and begging God for help, saying I needed to talk to someone, and that kinda stuff….and a few minutes later after I calmed down a bit, two missionaries, Sister Seaberg and Sister Fatiau sat down on the bench beside me and talked with me for quite a few hours.

They’re Mormons, and we’ve been hanging out ever since, they come to the house, we’ve cooked pasta for them, we went to church, and I’ll be going again this week, and while I don’t think I’ll join the church as a member, it’s just really nice to be socializing and to have someone to talk to again in the ‘real world’

Damon was invited to start a cooking class in the church, but last night while drunk he was going on about how he’s not going to go anymore and blah blah, so tough luck for him.

Not much other news, we’re going to be switching internet providers soon, because this one has terrible connection.

I bounced back and forth between two titles today for the bloggity….this one, and a quote by Jack Johnson that says “Can’t you see that it’s just raining? There ain’t no need to go outside.” Because exactly the opposite was true… I had to go update my visa today at immigration, so I definitely needed to go outside. Either way, I decided to go with Kerouac, just because I like his writing, and I have no idea who Mr. Johnson is, beyond being some singer-dude.

On top of it, Damon is deathly sick, and can barely even hold water down, so it’s been a glorious morning, full of the sounds of pitter-patter rain on a tin roof, and violent bursts from Mr. Chucky McVomit from the other room, the poor thing.

Once Raymond, our helper/housekeeper/family friend arrived at the house, I asked him to drive me into town to the Immigration office and got all my paperwork completed for another two months.
I talked about driving being scary here in my last post, but rain-driving is even worse… I have zero idea how Raymond kept us alive today… I had an umbrella on us while we drove, but he said it got in his way and didn’t help at all, so I put it away… Once I did, I couldn’t even keep my eyes open, let alone on the road, so I’m pretty darn impressed we didn’t die.

I do love the rain here though.
One moment it can be calm and sunny, and the next, there becomes a downpour so heavy that you can’t even see the houses across the way.
There are static lightning storms practically every night, which is awesome to watch, but not very much thunder, which kinda sucks for me, I am absolutely in love with big, loud thunder crackling and booming… the kind that shakes your house when it erupts.

I got home safe and sound, Ray went home early because he was soaked to the bone, and I tried my hand at making a homemade ragu/marinara from scratch…it turned out okay, but still no comparison to Damon’s sauces.
It was very spicy from the Bird’s Eye chilies I threw in, only three tiny red chilies in a whole pan-full of sauce, but my mouth was on fire… we have a giant bush of them in the back yard, too many to ever use up, it is our best-growing plant in the garden, and they are mighty tasty little things… really darn good in burgers as well.

Now I’m curling up with a coffee and some writing, listening to the crickets and the rain, and occasionally going to check on Husby, and generally just relaxing.
Really not an exciting day at all, but then again, not every day can be a darn party!

The following video is the drive from our house into the mall in town…it wasn’t taken today, but a few weeks ago with Damon. Beware, turn your speakers down, as there is a lot of wind noise on the video, and maybe one or two swear words as well.

Well, I almost didn’t write a new post today…no news is usually good news, but I suppose being the author of a bloggity…no news is bad views?

So I suppose I shall talk today about driving on the Scoopy.

Way back in the day, when I was a little youngster, I thought it would be awesome to get my driver’s license… a personal milestone of life-changing grandeur, opening a whole new world of opportunities and greatness. I couldn’t wait to turn sixteen and buy a cheap rust-bucket to call my own.
As sixteen got closer and closer to becoming a reality, I realized that having a car was highly overrated, way too expensive, and much more work than I was willing to put in, and in the end, I never ended up getting my license.

When I moved out to the Philippines at first, the roads and traffic terrified me… the people here are insane on the road, and rivaled only by Montreal, in my mind.
My husby Damon told me I would get used to it, and that while it looks chaotic and dangerous, there actually is somewhat of a method for driving here. I thought he was just as insane as the rest, especially after telling me that when he’s alone on the bike, he drifts around corners and reaches speeds of over eighty without a helmet… Can you say potential street pizza???

Eventually though, after about four months of my being here, I got the driving itch. One day when there was nothing going on and I was ready to crawl out of my own skin at the boredom I was feeling, I decided to hop on the bike and go for a spin.

Previous to this, my only experience with the bike was being on the back with him, and one teensy instance of driving it from the Sari-sari to our house…a grand, majestic total of about a two-minute trip down the driveway.
I had never driven a car in my life, let alone a scooter, which is what we own.

So the day I drove alone, I went up the mountain… Deciding that since I hadn’t been up that way yet after months of asking Damon to take me, I’d just go right ahead and take my damn self.

I have to say, it was a lovely drive, the flowers, trees and various plant life here are all breathtaking, not to mention the scenic views of the city from the mountainside.
I could feel the local people all staring at me, and a few tried to get my attention, or said hello as I drove past… but being a foreigner here, it’s getting to be a normal thing for me to experience.

I almost drove myself off the road trying to avoid a baby chicken, and at one point I was stopped by a large herd of goats, but other than that, the ride up was smooth and beautiful.
I found what looks to be a park, that I want to investigate further, and I saw an old Lady sweeping grass clippings off the side of the road. I took the time to appreciate and admire her work, the way the freshly swept soil looked richer and darker for her doing so…

The way back home was a bit frustrating, I definitely got lost, and got a few smirks from people as I passed them more than three times trying to find my way…
I decided at one point to stop and ask for directions, and realized as soon as I did that I was on my own darn street.

I got home just before the tank ran dry, and decided I think I may very well fancy this driving stuff… I can’t wait to go out and adventure again…next time, I’ll remember to bring my camera.

I suppose in this post, I should tell you more about me, and how I ended up living in the Philippines.

Like I mentioned in my first post, I was living in Canada… and I have to say, for a country that boasts a reputation for being free, tolerant, and full of opportunity… my quality of life was terrible. Job turnover is a nightmare, minimum wage is the standard rate of pay for most work, excruciating rent prices and utility costs are the norm, food is low in quality and high in cost, the people are hypocritical and attracted to drama, and the overall morale of the entire country, while presented to the globe as high, realistically, is lower than I’ve ever seen it before.

I had been from one end of the country to another last summer, in a last-bid attempt to regain control over my reality. I had always wanted to hitch hike, so I packed my things up, and set out for the west coast of Canada.While the trip was definitely fun, showing me lots of new things and giving me the sense of adventure and independence I had craved for a long time, it was slow-going, exhausting and sometimes terrifying, as well as downright freezing at night time.

Eventually though, I ended up in Alberta. I worked there for a while, until it became the same old story… a mind full of shambles, and a life full of chaos. I went back on disability, and tried again to pull my life together with the wonderfully generous help and shelter of two awesome chicks I met through mutual friends.

Throughout all of this, there was a man whom I had met online, also through mutual friends, that I occasionally spoke to, over a period of two years.His name is Damon Flint, and he was (( and still is )) the damn coolest guy I had ever heard about in my life. Everyone’s stories about him were outrageous, larger than life, and hilariously genuine. Whenever I spoke to him, my life would brighten, and for those moments, I felt like I could take on the world in my own ass-kicking, brassy kind of way. While in NS and Alberta, we started speaking much more regularly, and it got to the point where we would Skype every single day… Both of our sleep schedules became so erratic it was silly.

While living with those two awesome Ladies, Damon and I decided we wanted to be together enough to make it a reality, and so I worked on getting a passport. It took about a month, but after it arrived, he and his mother booked the plane ticket immediately, and a day later, I was on my way.

It has been a sensational journey, and I am very lucky to have found a man so caring and loving as he is. I appreciate every day that not only are we together, but we get to spend the rest of our days in paradise.